Hunger
by emospritelet
Summary: Rush has been possessed by a vampiric parasite, and he wants the blood of Belle French more than anyone else's. She'll taste even better if she's come, so he decides to make her do just that. This is just a shameless excuse for smutty smutty smut!


**A/N: A long time ago, when I was doing a 500-follower promptathon on tumblr, I received this prompt from Ripperblackstaff. And I didn't write it, because I am a terrible, terrible person who is bad at writing prompts. However, a rest over the Christmas period sent my muse into overdrive, so here it is.**

 **Ripperblackstaff prompt: "Rush is a vampire onboard Destiny"**

 **I didn't want to kill Rush off, because I love him, so my vampire in this tale is a sort of parasite that invades the body and takes over the mind. Rush is still in there somewhere...**

* * *

He told himself it was a game.

He had enjoyed playing his games with the crew of this ship ever since he had come aboard, ever since he had slithered into the veins and heart and soul of the man who called himself Dr Nicholas Rush. His dark prison beneath the earth had held him fast, but humans, with their wonderful curiosity, had broken open the tomb and ended his living death. All it had taken was an unguarded moment, an open wound on the man's wrist, and he had entered Dr Rush, a dark parasite to fuel his appetites and steal his soul and cloak his mind in shadow. The others had noticed nothing.

The essence of the man was still there, nestled deep in the recesses of his mind. It wasn't too bad, if one ignored the frequent swearing. And the screaming. It was also necessary to use that essence, in order to move amongst those that Rush had known, those he had worked with. Camouflage. With Rush's knowledge, the creature could interact with those around him, gain their trust, enjoy the look of surprise, betrayal and fear as he tore out their throats. As he fed on the sweet, sweet nectar of their blood.

The sergeant was first, and that had been particularly satisfying. He'd tried to fight, of course, but the adrenaline made it all the more exciting, made his blood tangy and addictive. The creature had gorged himself on it, draining the man dry, feeding for the first time in centuries, and it had sated him. He wouldn't _need_ to feed again for a long time, but he still wanted it, still wanted the taste of the blood and the smell of fear from his victims. Adrenaline was a delicious additive when it came to the flavour of blood. The only thing better was lust, but he'd picked the wrong body for inspiring such feelings. None of his crewmates felt any sort of desire for skinny, workaholic, short-tempered Dr Rush.

Except one.

Dr Belle French was small and slender, with a brilliant mind. She also had a sweet smile, soft dark curls and blue eyes a man could drown in, or so the original Dr Rush had thought in the darkest watches of the night when his insomnia kept him awake and restless. The creature that now called itself Rush also thought her delicious, though perhaps not in the same way. He wanted to run his mouth over the salt on her skin, to slip his tongue inside her and taste her sweetness, to sink his teeth into her and drink down every drop of her blood. He imagined that hers would be the sweetest of all, and he was fully aware that she was the only person that was remotely interested in Rush in a sexual way. He could smell it on her whenever she was near him, and was surprised that the scientist had remained unaware of it. Humans and their dull senses, he supposed. He had already decided that she would be the next he would taste; she was just too tempting to have running around the ship for too long. There was a spark there, a spark of interest in Rush. If he could fan it to flames, it would make her taste all the better, and he looked forward to having the flavour of her on his tongue. Before he drained her dry.

He was supposed to be resting, his shift over some time ago, and after tearing out Greer's throat he had spent an hour or so feeding, disposing of the body and cleaning himself up. Killing the man in the showers had certainly made things easier in that respect. The taste of the blood still in his mouth, he made his way through the ship on bare feet, padding along silent corridors with his nose lifted, following Belle's scent. It was her turn to man the control room, and his mouth spread in a slow smile as he saw that she was alone, bent over one of the monitors and chewing her lip. She glanced up as he entered before turning back to what she was doing.

"Hey Rush," said Belle vaguely, waving an arm at another of the consoles. "Can you read out the stats on that screen to me? Destiny's being a pain in the arse about that change to the countdown sequence you and Eli did."

"What's the problem?" asked Rush, going up behind her. Her scent filled the air, a sweet, musky perfume, and it made him want more than her blood. He imagined that if he were to put his head between her thighs that scent would envelop him, make him light-headed with desire. He wondered how humans coped with their stunted, inadequate senses. Even Rush, with his pathetic pining over the woman, wouldn't have known how good she truly smelt.

"She's not allowing the new code," said Belle, straightening up and turning around. "I thought Eli had fixed it, but she's playing up again. Could you help me double-check everything? We don't want to end up with half the usual countdown at the next planet we reach."

She grinned up at him, and he swallowed hard, trying to stop his tongue from flickering out to taste her in the air around him. Her skin was like cream, and he let his eyes slide down her throat, watching the pulse of her blood, the life-force that made her this tiny, sarcastic, brilliant piece of loveliness before him. It would be the work of a moment to tear out her throat, to bathe in her blood, to suck her dry. Hunger rose in him, turning his vision black, and his hands quivered, wanting to reach for her. His host screamed obscenities in his depths of his mind.

"Rush?" Belle's voice cut through his inner turmoil. Her brow was furrowed, her gaze concerned. "You okay?"

His breathing hardened, and he ran his eyes over her, wanting to reach out and touch her, stroke the curve of her hip, slip his fingers in between her legs and make her moan. He wondered if she thought about it too, if she was wet and ready, if she would be slick with her own desire, allowing his fingers to slide inside her.

"Rush!" Belle put her hands on his arms, and he jumped at the sudden contact.

"Fine," he managed, his voice a little hoarse. "I'm fine."

"You didn't sleep again, did you?" Her voice was wry, and she leant back. "Go get some rest, you shouldn't even be here. My shift's nearly over, anyway. Brody and Volker can pick this up."

"Yes."

He didn't move, still breathing her in, mesmerised by her, wanting her. She was standing too close to him. It wasn't safe for her, not when he was like this. Quite why he was suddenly concerned for her safety eluded him, and he shoved the thought aside, focusing on her scent, on how she might taste, the look of terror in her eyes if he were to grab her and take her. Other thoughts slid into his mind, different reactions she might have, even more delicious than her fear, if he were to touch her in the right places, in the right ways...

"Rush, you look like death," she said gently. "Seriously, go to bed."

He reached up, one finger stroking over the perfect curve of her cheek, and Belle sucked in a breath, her eyes widening in shock at the sudden contact.

"Come with me," he whispered, and she swallowed hard, blinking rapidly.

"Wh-what?" Her voice had deepened, turned throaty, and her pupils had blown wide, her eyes darkening. His own would be black, he knew that.

"Bed," he growled. "Come to bed with me, Belle."

The tip of her tongue darted out to wet her lips, and he longed to taste her, to bite down into that soft flesh and feed on her. He could sense her rising excitement, her breath coming hard in her chest, her heart thumping. It was _intoxicating_.

"So, how's our baby doing?" Brody's voice made Belle jump back from him, and Rush stood still for a moment, not trusting himself to speak. He could cheerfully have leapt across the room and torn off the other man's head.

"Um - there have been a few issues, actually," said Belle, trying to speak normally. Her eyes flicked up at Rush as she talked, and he let his gaze run over her chest. Her nipples were hard points, showing through her bra and the khaki vest she was wearing. He imagined how it would be to have them in his mouth, to have her at his mercy. He was hard and straining from the thought of it, the thought of having her, of stripping her naked and tasting every inch of her.

Belle had started telling Brody about the problems with the countdown, and Rush strode from the room before he killed the man. He marched along, feet slapping against the cold floor, his arms swinging as he made his way to his quarters. The blood was crawling in his veins, desire and hunger making his skin tingle and burn. A part of him longed to have one of the crew confront him, one person to bump into him or speak to him or ask him for something, so he could have the slimmest of excuses to bite them, to _tear_ them. To his regret, however, he reached his quarters without seeing anyone, and once inside he tugged his shirt over his head and paced the floor, hands on hips, his body still hot from the sergeant's blood.

The door swished open behind him, and he whirled on the balls of his feet, ready to flay the skin from whoever had disturbed him. The snarl fell from his face as Belle stepped into the room, running a hand up and down the pale length of her arm. Her nipples were still taut, tenting the front of her vest, and he could feel his mouth water. Belle closed the door behind herself, flicking the switch that locked it, shutting herself in with him, inside the darkness of his lair. Foolish, foolish girl! He wanted to laugh at her naivety. She folded her arms across her chest, as though she could read his thoughts, see the hunger in his eyes, and then raised one hand, index finger pointing at him accusingly.

"You don't like me," she said.

He waited, his need growing, watching the dark pink of her lips as she bit into the bottom one, teeth clutching and pulling at the soft flesh.

"You barely even speak to me unless it's about work," she added, lifting her hands and letting them fall. "And then out of the blue you just - you just _ask_ me to go to _bed_ with you? What the hell is _that_ about? I don't understand you."

"And yet," he said softly. "Here you are."

Her lips parted, the faint gleam of saliva making them shine in the warm light, and he wanted to taste her. He had slowed his pacing, but he still walked, back and forth, a lean, prowling creature of hunger and passion and darkness.

"I…" she faltered. A blush rose in her cheeks, the blood heating her face, and his belly crawled and tightened, his desire for her almost unbearable. She swallowed.

"Would you stand still, you're making me nervous."

He walked around her slowly, until he was behind her, and he heard her breath catch as he put his hands on her shoulders. She shivered as he bent his head to her, his lips brushing her ear, and he breathed in her perfect scent.

"Why are you nervous?" he whispered, and heard her swallow again.

"I don't know," she said softly. "You seem - different, Rush. Are you okay?"

He could see her pulse throbbing in her throat, the heavy beat of her heart, and he longed to bite her. But the lust - the lust would make her so much sweeter. He lowered his mouth to her neck, and she sucked in a breath as his lips met her skin, his tongue swirling over her pulse point. Her salt made his mouth water, and he could feel his teeth tingle, needle-sharp in his mouth, wanting to sink into her. His lips pulled at her skin, and he breathed in through his nose, sucking air across the hollow of her ear. Belle bit back a moan.

"You can tell me to stop," he whispered. "If you don't want this, Belle, you can stop me."

She couldn't, of course; he would take her no matter what, but giving her the illusion of some sort of power, some sort of control over her fate… he always enjoyed those games. Especially the violent, inevitable ending.

"Don't stop!" she breathed, and he grinned.

His hands slid down her arms, feeling the way her skin had pebbled at his touch, and he stroked them over her waist, curving around and sliding upwards to cup her breasts. Belle moaned a little, pushing herself into his hands, and he felt the hard buds of her nipples press against his palms. He squeezed them between thumb and forefinger, and she gasped, her head rolling back onto his shoulder. Her hand lifted up, pushing through his hair and making his skin tingle. He slid his hands back down, pushing them up beneath the vest she wore and pulling it over her head, and Belle lifted her arms, struggling out of it and standing in the plain black bra she had worn when she first came aboard Destiny. He unfastened it, letting the straps spring forwards, stroking his hands over her naked breasts and pushing the soft cotton away from her skin. Belle let it fall, breathing hard, fitting perfectly in the palms of his hands, and he ran his tongue up the side of her neck, his teeth nipping her earlobe.

He squeezed her nipples again, making her moan and push her rear against him. The pressure was pleasant, and he rubbed himself against her, enjoying the sensation. It was fortunate that invading a body only produced benefits, such as enhanced senses, and saliva that healed wounds, and the needles of bone that grew down from the roof of the mouth, ready to pierce skin and veins and make the precious blood flow. The body lost none of its more human reactions. He was also very aware of the consciousness of his host, sitting in the back of his mind and revelling in touching the woman in his arms. He supposed that he owed at least some of his straining erection to the original Nicholas Rush, and imagined how the man would weep and wail when he finally killed her. The thought made him grin.

He decided that he wanted to see her, not just touch her, and so he slipped around to the front of her, his movements sinuous. She stroked her hands up his naked chest, her slender fingers running over him, and he groaned in pleasure at the sensation. Belle bent her head to him, sucking on a nipple, and the feeling of her wet mouth on him almost made his head explode. He pushed her backwards, slamming her against the wall of the room and covering her mouth with his. She tasted as sweet as he had suspected, her mouth hot and wet, and his tongue plunged into her as his hands sank into her hair. Belle moaned into his mouth, her breasts pushing against his chest, and Rush pulled back before he could lose control, before he could bite down into the her velvet tongue and the plump softness of her lips, before he could make her scream. He pressed his forehead to hers, breathing hard, and she gazed up at him with eyes grown dark with lust. Oh yes, she would be utterly delicious!

"Bed," he growled, and Belle nodded, so he bent down and scooped her up in his arms, throwing her onto his bed and unlacing the boots she was wearing, pulling them off along with her socks and throwing them over his shoulder. He crawled back over her, grabbing her wrists and pinning her arms above her head, and she gazed up at him, chest heaving and eyes sparkling with excitement.

"I - had no idea," she said breathlessly. "I didn't think you even liked me."

"Oh, I don't _like_ you," he whispered, and he bent his head to her neck, breathing in the scent of her, feeling the throb of her pulse against his lips, and the desire to bite down and drink her dry was almost unbearable. She let out a tiny noise, almost a whimper, and he trailed his lips up to her ear, his breath hot against her as he felt her shiver.

"I _want_ you!" he said harshly. "I want to _fuck_ you, Belle! I want to get deep inside you and make you fucking _scream_ for me!"

She moaned, arching up into him, her fingers sliding through his hair as he kissed her, his hands releasing her wrists, and he moved down the bed, running his tongue down her chest and fastening his lips over her right nipple, his hands cupping her breasts as he sucked at her. Belle moaned again, her hands tightening in his hair, and he let her nipple slip from his mouth, deep, deep pink and shining in the light. He pinched it between his fingers, twisting and making her cry out, and then swirled his tongue over it, sucking it in between his lips. He could feel the thin fangs he had grown, the points scratching the sides of his tongue. Kissing her on the mouth would have to be done carefully if he were not to give himself away.

"Rush!" she whispered. "God, please! Take my pants off!"

He smiled, leaving her breasts and moving lower, his fingers opening up the military fatigues she was wearing and tugging them down over her hips, leaving her plain black cotton panties in place. She lifted her hips so that he could pull the pants off her, revealing long, pale legs that he wanted to bite.

"Now you," she said softly, and he hesitated for a moment.

Did he really need to be naked for this? He could make her orgasm without actually fucking her, after all. That alone would make her blood almost good enough to put him in a trance, if he drained her dry. His thoughts grew darker as he looked down on her, helpless beneath him, and the other Rush in his head slammed against the barrier he had thrown up in his mind, shouting and screaming obscenities at him. The interruption pulled him back a little, cooled his desire, and although he snarled back at the scientist in his head, he thought perhaps it was fortunate that Rush had distracted him. Perhaps he could enjoy himself a little first. He unfastened his belt and zipper, pulling off the pants he was wearing, along with his underwear, and Belle's eyes widened as she looked him over, pushed up on her elbows.

"Okay," she said, a little nervously. "Okay, take mine off, too."

He surged forward, making her catch her breath as she fell back, and his fingers grasped the waistband of her panties, pulling them down those long, long legs of hers and throwing them to the side. He looked down on her, his chest heaving, running his eyes over her pale, perfect skin and the dark curls between her thighs. Her scent was intoxicating, filling his head and clouding his mind, and he felt almost calm as he breathed her in. She was watching him, her chest rising and falling as she panted for breath, and he ran the palms of his hands slowly up her thighs, pushing them apart as he lowered himself onto her. Her skin was soft and warm, her fragrance flowing over him as he trailed his lips over her inner thigh. The tiny muscles on the inside of her legs were twitching and jumping, and he swept his tongue across her pale flesh, groaning a little at the taste of her as her fingers dropped to stroke through his hair. He inched his way higher, his hands pushing her legs further apart, and his tongue moved in slow circles over her skin. He was so close, so close to where she was hot and wet and ready, and he couldn't decide if he should bite her now for a first taste, or wait until he had made her come, when she would be so delicious he would want to drink every drop of her.

Belle sucked in a breath as he kissed higher, her fingers tugging at his hair, and he swept a finger up between her legs, finding her slick with warm fluid. She moaned at his touch, and he slipped the finger into his mouth, her flavour exploding across his tongue and making him growl with hunger for her. He couldn't bear it, couldn't hold back any longer, and he curled his hand around, his fingers parting her curls as he bent his head to her, as he drew his tongue slowly up between the soft folds of flesh. Belle cried out, her thighs gripping the sides of his head, and he slipped his hands underneath her, pulling her closer, his tongue flickering over her, pushing inside her and circling the swollen nub of her clit. She tasted incredible, all salt and musk and pheromones, her desire making his head spin, and the other Rush was practically weeping in his head, craving her, wanting her. He almost laughed at the pitiful, lovesick fool.

He used the flat of his tongue against her, spreading her scent, mixing it with his own saliva until her inner thighs were wet with it, until it covered his face and stubble and dampened the strands of his hair. She was moving against him, tiny moans coming from her, and his tongue flickered over her, over the hardened pearl of her clit, soaking and slippery with her juices. Her scent surrounded him, covering him, pulled into his nose and his lungs and his mind and making his vision darken. He pushed a finger inside her, thrusting, sliding, and he could feel her tensing and tightening, her breath a ragged whistling in her throat, her moans growing in pitch and volume as he brought her nearer her climax.

" _Rush!"_ she moaned, her pelvis thrusting against him, and he rubbed his chin in a circle over her clit, making her let out a tiny cry.

"You taste _fucking_ incredible, Belle," he whispered harshly, and he pushed another finger inside her, his breath hot against her skin. "Are you coming, my sweet? Tell me when you're coming, because I want to drink you down. I want to taste _every single drop_."

"Oh God!" she groaned, throwing her head back, her back arching. "Oh God, _please!_ "

He slipped his fingers out of her, the flesh deep pink and swollen, his hand covered in her slippery fluid, and eased one finger further down between her legs, curling it around and pressing against the tight opening there. He pushed inside, sliding carefully, and Belle rose up off the bed with a cry, falling back with a series of soft moans as he bent his head to her, his tongue pushing into her as his finger moved in and out. He could feel her shaking, her moans growing louder, and he knew she was close. His fangs were almost tingling in anticipation, his mouth watering, and his tongue slipped out of her, replaced by his thumb as he licked over her clit once more. His fingers worked her, sliding in and out of her entrances, her muscles gripping him, and his tongue danced over her, drawing circles in her wet flesh.

"Come for me!" he growled. "I'm losing patience, Belle, come!"

"Oh, _Rush_!" she gasped. "I'm - I'm - _fuck_!"

She threw back her head with a loud cry, her body jerking as she came, and he sank his teeth into the soft flesh of her outer labia, his fangs sliding into her as easily as if she were made of butter. A brief taste of her delights, an aperitif before the main meal. Her blood flowed into his mouth, her flavour bursting across his tongue, sweet and heady and utterly, utterly addictive. It made his head spin, bringing him close to orgasm, the stolen blood in his veins pounding behind his eyes and in his groin. He groaned aloud, sucking on her, and barely had the presence of mind to pull out and run his tongue over the tiny puncture marks, his saliva healing the small wounds. It would sting, he knew, but only for a moment, and she was currently distracted, still bucking and twitching from her orgasm. He pulled his fingers from her, pushing her legs further apart and licking the sweet white fluid from her, swallowing it down. It tasted almost as good as the last of her blood that still coated the sides of his mouth, and he groaned again, his cock straining against the bedclothes, his own cum leaking from him in his excitement.

"God, that was amazing!" she murmured, her fingers stroking through his hair. "I had - I had no idea…"

He licked her again, a final, sweeping stroke of his tongue, and began kissing his way up over the flat of her belly, spreading her delicious scent, his stubble scraping her skin. He wanted to mark her, to score red lines in the perfect paleness of her, to bite her until she was covered in weeping, crimson holes for him to drink from. But not yet, not yet. He could play with her a little while longer.

"I want you, Belle," he growled. And he did. He wanted to plunge into her and feel her around him, to come deep inside her, almost as much as he wanted her blood. He suspected that at least some of that desire came from his host, from the consciousness of Dr Rush that was scrabbling uselessly at the invisible barrier in his mind, trying to break through. Trying to save her from the monster that was lying between her legs.

"I - I want you too!" she breathed, and he continued to kiss his way upwards, nipping at her breasts with his lips, sucking that pale skin into his mouth and leaving dark red marks. She was moaning again, her fingers running over his shoulders as he sucked at her nipple, and he couldn't hold back, letting his fangs sink into her, letting her blood pool in his mouth again. Belle let out a squeal, jerking beneath him, and he soothed the bite with his tongue, healing her wounds, leaving only angry red marks there as he swallowed the sweet, sweet taste of her.

"Don't bite so hard!" she whispered, and he grinned to himself. She had no idea.

Her legs were rubbing against his hips as he pushed himself up on his hands, gazing down at her, his hair hanging in his face, wet strands sticking to his cheeks. She was looking up at him, her chest heaving, eyes heavy-lidded and her lips dark and plump, and he shifted forwards a little, feeling the end of his cock pressing up against her, Belle opening her legs wider, wet flesh closing around him.

"Mine!" he snarled, his lips curling, and he pushed forwards, thrusting up inside her, Belle groaning loudly as he filled her, and he hooked an arm behind her knee, pulling her leg up over his shoulder so that he could push deeper. She arched her back, biting back a cry as he slammed into her, and his hands gripped her breasts, his mouth covering her nipple again. She was as soft as velvet, gripping him snugly as he moved inside her, their bodies meeting in wetness and heat and friction from their mingled hair and her warm juices. she reached up to touch his face, making him lift his head from her breast, his breathing ragged as he looked down on her, and her eyes were warm and dark, fixed on him, looking inside him as though she could see the true Rush lurking in the dark recesses of his mind. As though she thought she could reach him back there and bring him back to life with her tiny smile. Her scent surrounded him, all of her musk and her desire and there, beneath it all, her trust. It was an unfamiliar experience for him, that scent, and it almost seemed a pity to destroy it when he took her life. Her need for him was intoxicating, far more exciting than Greer's pitiful attempts to fight him off, and he wondered how the taste of her would change when his lust turned to violence, when her desire became terror.

The other Rush was swearing at him, the sound a dull, fuzzy screaming in the depths of his mind, and he continued to move, to push against her in slow, rhythmic strokes. He could feel his own climax building, and it was as though Belle could sense it too, lifting her hips slightly to allow him deeper, to let him push up inside her as far as he could go. He ran his hands up over her flushed cheeks and into her hair, running his tongue up her throat and enjoying the throb of her pulse against his lips. Perhaps he should bite her at the point of orgasm. She was close, too, so close, her breath coming in pants, her fingernails taking furrows in his shoulders. The pain was delicious.

He kissed her then, his tongue sliding into her mouth, forgetting that his fangs were ready to strike, to pierce, and her own tongue was scratched by the point of one, making her curse into his mouth. A little blood, barely more than a pinprick, but enough to make him salivate. He pulled his mouth away, licking across her cheek and down her neck again, and she wrapped her legs around him, digging her heels into his rear and tugging him against her. He quickened his pace in response, and he felt her hold her breath, her hips bucking against him. His hand slipped to her throat and tightened, holding her in place, and it seemed to excite her, her moans growing louder and louder until she broke with a wail, clenching around him. Her nails scored his back and he growled with pleasure at the pain of it, his teeth fastening on her neck and biting down, letting her sweet blood fill his mouth and flow through his being. The other Rush battered against the barrier with a strength he had never expected, roaring in fury, but he didn't care, lost in the heat and taste of Belle. His mind wanted to explode from the beauty of her, the flavour of her, and he knew that he could kill her, could drain her dry and not feel an ounce of regret. Their joining had awoken another need in him, though. He needed to come, and he wanted her living to do that.

Cursing inside his head, he pulled his mouth from her neck, his tongue swiping over the wounds, bathing them in the healing saliva. She was letting out tiny moans, her movements slowing, and he continued to thrust inside her, feeling his cock move against her, hard and thick. She opened sleepy eyes and looked up at him, smiling dreamily.

"You feel amazing," she murmured, and the part of him that was still Rush fell in love with her all over again. Useless fool.

He kissed along her jawline, his tongue leaving a streak of her blood on the pale skin, and he swallowed hard, clearing his tongue of blood before licking her clean.

"I'm going to come, Belle," he whispered roughly. "I have to come inside you."

"Yes!" she breathed. "Do it!"

He quickened his pace, feeling himself tense, feeling his climax build. She was moving against him, moaning and thrusting, and he wanted to fill her, wanted to pour himself into her, to pull the darkness from his soul and drown her in it. He came with a groaning roar, hips pumping, feeling as though his entire being was being pulled apart, threads given to the winds and blown away. Darkness claimed his vision, and when it cleared the other Rush was at the front of his mind, his love for the woman beneath him bathing everything around him in a soft, warm light.

He shook his head slightly, and the other Rush retreated as he caught his breath. Belle was looking at him with an unreadable expression, and reached up to cup his cheek. He surprised himself by turning his head to kiss her fingertips.

"Wow," she said softly.

"Yeah," he returned, and she smiled.

He should kill her now, of course. The marks on her neck were an deep red, although they would fade within a few hours. Still, he should kill her. He should.

She continued to stroke his cheek, her fingers stroking through the damp strands of his hair, and he was surprised to find himself enjoying it. Perhaps it wouldn't hurt to keep her alive a little longer. The flavour of her had been incredible, the best thing he could remember tasting, and it wasn't as though he _needed_ to kill her, given that he had eaten Greer. Yes, perhaps she could live a while longer.

"Do you mind if I stay?" she whispered, and he felt his lips curve into a smile.

"I'd like that."

He pulled out of her gently, rolling to the side and drawing her close, and she rested her head against his chest with a sigh, her fingertips lightly stroking his skin. He took a deep breath, pulling the scent of her into his lungs, finding it calming, soothing. His eyes closed.

He told himself it was a game. There would only ever be one winner, but that didn't mean he couldn't change the rules.

* * *

 **A/N: New Year, new smut! Hope you enjoyed :)**


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